


Senses Sense Avenger Attributes

by FawnoftheWoods



Series: Not Alone Anymore [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers as family, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FawnoftheWoods/pseuds/FawnoftheWoods
Summary: My take on the 5+1.  5+1 senses for each member of the Avengers.





	1. Clint's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RikasGrayWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikasGrayWolf/gifts).



> This is my take on the 5+1 stories. Each avenger will have a sense assigned to them and a chapter where they use that sense on each of their five teammates and once it is used on them. I thought it was cool that the number of Avengers neatly fits 5+1, so here is mine. :)
> 
> Also this work is a gift, which I forgot about so now its being gifted X) To Rikas for requesting "Clint starts tradition of touch for all avengers"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times Clint sees his teammates and one time they see him.

Clint was known for his eyesight.  As a sniper, he had incredible vision.  When Phil had picked him out to specialize in sniper, no one had argued.  His shooting score on anything, not just a bow, combined with his vision scores were enough to justify the assignment.  That assignment went well, the next one went better. Over and over, increasingly hard missions had Clint proving to be the best sniper in the field in the organization.

But Phil told him once that he hadn’t chosen him for his eyesight, but for his eyes.

* * *

Steve swallowed his regret as he tore the paper into pieces and threw it away.  He had already guessed that his current roommates wouldn’t stop at his trash if they got curious.  He’d been trying to sketch Bucky for days and it just wasn’t coming out right. Tony had gotten him a copy of the films and photos from the Smithsonian, but they really didn’t show the part of his brother that he wanted to sketch.  Bucky wasn’t just a good soldier: he was a funny, sarcastic jerk. Laid back, he took everything that came at him with aplomb and then some. When Steve was ill, he had needed that strength. Now, in this world where some days he wasn’t sure he’d ever fit in, he could use some of that calm belief in the future right now.

A small sound had him sighing, “Clint, get out of the vents!  Tony said he wasn’t done with the east wall yet!”

He heard scuffling moving away from his room.  He hadn’t expected the archer to respond. He hoped the goof didn’t hurt himself while Tony revamped the ventilation system on the east wall today.

“Captain, Dr. Banner has requested your presence in the kitchen.”  Steve sighed and looked at the blank page in front of him. Clearly he wasn’t getting anything done and as Bruce so rarely asked for anything, he should go see what the scientist needed.

Steve liked his team.  Hell, he was growing as attached to them as he had been to the commandos, but he could tell he was missing something.  Something big.

Bruce gave him a wan smile when he entered the kitchen.  Steve immediately could tell why. Thor stood there with a sheepish look and eggs absolutely everywhere.  Steve had to blink a moment, wondering briefly just how many eggs they had to produce such a mess.

“Ooooookaaayyy?”  He really wasn’t sure why they had called him.  Bruce was good about cleaning up messes and Thor was an enthusiastic, if clumsy, helper.  Bruce sighed and raised an eyebrow at Thor. A moment later Thor’s hands came into view from behind his back.  Steve hadn’t even registered they were hiding back there. In his hands were Steve’s combat boots. 

Steve winced and when he dared to look closer, he found them practically swimming with egg guts.  He had to swallow a small amount of revulsion at the sight of a pool of semi-viscous egg goo floating in a place his feet were supposed to go and the waste of food that was about to take place  since there was no way they could safely eat the eggs. He glanced at Bruce for a moment before taking a deep breath to shove the nausea down enough to talk. He’d had a lot of practice at that as a sick kid.

“I don’t think I want to know what happened.  Just-” He looked at Bruce again, but the man seemed to want him to decide the next step.  “Just dump them and we’ll go see Tony.” And get laughed at, but that needn’t be said. Maybe Tony will force Thor to relate the actual story and Steve could hear it.

Bruce looked for a moment like he would say something, but eventually he nodded.  

Bruce watched as the elevator doors closed behind Thor and Steve.  Looking around the kitchen, he sighed and started wiping it down. He had half hoped they would stay to help clean-up, but Steve’s glances in his direction were enough to make him rethink that desire.  Tony was the only Avenger who wasn’t worried about triggering an incident and Bruce wasn’t really interested in watching Steve dance around him.

Thor was the opposite of helpful.  The only thing that kept him from triggering a sparring partner out of Bruce was Bruce’s obvious desire to  _ not _ have an incident.  As such, Thor swung widely between trying to spark a spar and tiptoeing so as to not mess with a hair on his head.  It really was trying some days.

Bruce looked at the countertop he had just wiped.  There were four eggs that had escaped Thor’s comedy of errors.  He looked at them in defeat. Half of what had happened was because Thor had been trying to stay  _ out _ of Bruce’s way.  

Frowning at them, he picked up two eggs and glared at them a moment, allowing himself to feel his irritation.  The rumble in the back of his mind didn’t stir much beyond what felt like curiosity. He clapped, splattering the egg, guts and all, on the newly wiped countertop.  That had felt good. He glanced at the other two survivors of the egg massacre. Shaking his head, he turned back to the sink. 

As he whipped the cloth along the countertop, he accidentally knocked the remaining eggs off the counter.  They crashed at his feet and he jumped. Looking down at the mess left behind by his teammate, he chuckled.

Kneeling down, he started to laugh.

“I love surprises.”  Unsurprisingly, his whisper went unheard.

* * *

Tony shook his head as he looked at the boots in disgust.  It had to be eggs. The protein component was very fond of the fibers of the boot.  Thor’s hangdog look at his sigh forced him to smile and ask for the story. It had been long as well as convoluted and Tony wasn’t sure Steve followed it any better than he did.  In the end he knew three things; he needed to make sure Bruce was okay and not blaming himself for this mess, Steve wouldn’t be making omelets for breakfast for a while and he needed to wash the damn shoes.  

Google was a wonderful thing.  He turned the shoes upside down in a large bucket of cold water and asked JARVIS for an hour timer.  During that hour he invented a boot washing device that was little more than an L tube that shot detergent and water into a boot and let it drain back into the fill bucket beneath.  Rinsing was going to be interesting but Tony figured if all else failed, they could drop Steve in a swamp the next time they were out.

Tony glanced at the elevator the two men had just vanished through and shook his head before he could sigh.  He didn’t have time for teammate worries. He currently had Pepper worries, namely if he didn’t finish this design by tonight she was going to call him again, and Tony feared her Glare-of-Unusual-Guilt more than Doom right now.  She should get it patented.

He reached under the table to pick up his sphere’s stylus but blinked, when he felt an object that wasn’t  his stylus. Lifting it out, he saw it was a bottle of scotch. It still had a good five or six shots in it, must have been left over from his pre-palladium days.  He could see his hand shaking as he put in on the desk. 

He wished he could do one damn drop.

The elevator door startled him enough that he dropped the bottle.  Spinning around and seeing Natasha made him smile. She could distract him.  He often enjoyed her distractions, they were usually interesting and unpredictable.

Unfortunately she had only come down to ask his update on the vent system upgrade.  She hadn’t seen Clint for a while and was guessing he was in the ventilation ahead of Tony’s upgrades.  Tony did an admirable job of not looking at the vent in the corner where JARVIS had reported the archer’s location when Thor and Steve left.  He simply assured Natasha that the upgrades were complete in the Avenger’s levels and the rest of the building would be done tomorrow evening.

After she left he leaned against the table, staring at the bottle still on the floor.  He had seen Natasha glance at it. 

God, he needed a drink.

* * *

Natasha found Steve outside Thor’s room a few moments later.  Thor had already moved into the room, so he nodded to the pair as he shut his door to change.  The egg mess had truly been an accident. When he was younger, he’d had many of them before learning to control his strength, even in Asgard.  On Midgard, things were more fragile and he was having to relearn his own strength. 

The biggest difference was that here there wasn’t a Loki to laugh with him.  Loki had always made his clumsiness into a joke they could share. Thor bent a fork, Loki created an illusion that many of the forks were bent and no one could tell which ones were and which ones weren’t.  Thor shattered a goblet and next an illusion of the drink pitchers chasing him came to life. Thor would still end up soaked, but everyone could blame Loki’s pranks, not Thor’s oafishness. 

He missed his brother something dearly.  Loki’s sense of humor was off Thor’s but it was still amusing when Thor was paying attention.  Many of Loki’s jokes had Thor at the butt, but Thor always learned something that he had been frustrated with before.  He learned to balance on the thinnest of strings, to fly in the most confusing of turbulence and to block the most hidden of punches, all thanks to his brother.

That was the brother he loved and missed.  He wished he had known that Loki had needed him.  He wished he had understood Loki well enough to help him like Thor himself had been helped.

Thor sighed as he placed the egged shirt in the basket for washing and picked out a new one.  

He missed his brother.

* * *

Natasha watched as Steve walked away.  The super soldier seemed especially down today.  Usually the egg comedy he had related would put him in amused, if not good spirits, but he just seemed to think the world heavier.  

He also had been of no help in locating Clint.  The man better not have gotten himself into any trouble in the vents!  Christ, she was always saving his ass.

And he was always saving hers.  She glanced up at the small noise, identifying her partner with ease.  He was in the vents! She huffed. “You’d better not hurt yourself!” She heard him scurrying further away and down.

“JARVIS, where is he?”  

“Normally that information is restricted, however, Agent Barton is entering an area Sir has not yet upgraded.  He is not responding to requests to change location. Agent Barton is heading to level 56 East side. Sir has been notified of the possible danger.”

Natasha huffed and ducked into an elevator.  JARVIS automatically closed the elevator and she started descending.

“Agent Barton has entered an area under active construction and not secured, the shaft is separating from the moulding.”

Natasha cursed under her breath in four languages as the elevator doors opened, “Notify the team.  Where is he?”

“Team has been notified. Agent Barton has fallen into a shaft without cameras.  You will need to locate him in person.” Natasha felt her stomach clench at the AI’s information.

“Then we go in person.”  Steve came up behind her.

“Here, Itsy-Bitsy.”  Tony tossed an earpiece her way before opening a laptop he was carrying.  “I’ll try to track him from here, but he’s running on silent, so I don’t have a com to track.  You enter the system through the elevator shaft, J will guide you. I’ll track his sounds through the PA system.”

Natasha nodded and turned to follow the holographic finger pointed at the elevator with Steve hot on her tail.  JARVIS opened the doors for them and they descended a few floors before JARVIS directed them to another shaft. Steve detoured to the nearest floor, being rather large to fit, and Natasha crawled after her archer.

“He’s 9.3 meters ahead of you, Tasha.  I’m getting sounds of him from a few minutes before J sent out the alert.  He might be caught between rooms.” Tony’s voice was distracted. Natasha trusted his direction though, Tony Stark could multitask with the best of them.

“I am outside the building, have you need of me.”  Thor’s voice boomed over the coms. Natasha was relieved to know they still had the flying help with Tony grounded working on a computer.

“I found him.”  Steve’s voice gave her some relief.  “He’s next to room 12A on the 43rd floor, Tony.”

“Can you get to him?”

“No, I can hear him behind a wall.  He’s conscious.” Steve’s report had Natasha hurrying and she saw the archer as she rounded a corner.

“H-hi Nat.”  Clint grinned at her as he hung on the opposite end of the shaft.  “F-f-fancy meeting you here.”

“I found him.”  She took in her long time partner and frowned.  “He’s injured.” She ignored the concerned barking in her ear to focus on the hanging man.  

“I can’t get a better grip, Nat.”  Clint’s grimace showed he was in more pain than he wanted to let on.  The long gash on the side and back of his limp arm spoke to at least some of his pain.  

“Teach you to watch where you’re going!”  She gave him a shark’s grin before refocusing on her com.  “I can’t get to him from here.”

“Can you give me an exact location?”

“He’s a half meter below my level and 1.5 meters to the east on the outside wall.”  Natasha’s information seemed to satisfy Tony as he started to mutter to himself. Finally he spoke, just as she was starting to worry.

“Thor, move two windows away from the sun.  And now place your hammer on the wall.” Tony was probably watching the godling on outside cameras.  She and Steve listened as Tony directed him to an exact spot and told him to make a man-sized hole. A moment later she saw the wall open up a meter away from Clint.  

While Thor had been opening the wall up, Tony had directed Steve to a nearby window and the soldier was scaling the wall on the outside.  A moment later he squeezed through the hole and made his way over to Clint. Natasha couldn’t hear them as Steve spoke to Clint, but she could guess her partner was apologizing for the bother.  Steve was quietly talking to him, hopefully talking him out of that idea.

“Bruce is waiting in the conference room on that floor with a medkit.  I’ll join him in a moment.” Natasha relayed Tony’s message since Steve must be off coms in order to talk to Clint without them hearing.  She wasn’t sure why he removed them, but it was irrelevant at the moment. Once Steve had handed Clint off to Thor, she worked her way back along the vents.

* * *

Clint winced as he sat on the table and let Bruce look over his arm.  This sure was a shit show. Not only had he gotten in trouble, but the whole team had been needed to get him out of it.  He looked up as Natasha entered the room frowning with Steve right behind her. Bruce glanced over before shaking his head and returning to the scratch that traversed his arm.

Tony was still on his laptop behind him, muttering to himself.  Thor was grinning by the door and waiting while Steve asked for an update.

“His arm is pretty hurt.  I’m wrapping it, but I’d feel better if he gave it two days before doing much with it.”  Clint looked at Bruce in irritation. He was fine! Bruce simply placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer as Steve turned to Tony.  “I know you’re fine and if we get a call out you’ll be able to use the arm, but Clint, you depend on your arms. Unless it’s vital, let them heal.  We need you to heal.”

Clint’s words caught in his throat.  Most doctors wanted him to stop doing everything and heal, including missions, but Bruce just gave him a grin and turned back to Tony and Steve.

“No, the fall would not be helped by balance, he needed a braking system.”  Clint then realized Steve and Tony were discussing possible changes to the vent system so that if this happened again, they could get to him easier and he wouldn’t get as injured.  He was distracted from the argument by Thor placing a hand heavily on his shoulder. Well, lightly for Thor, heavily for everyone else.

“Mayhap you could show me the layout of the vent system, brother archer!”  Clint looked at his team and realized that they all saw him exactly like he was.

* * *

Clint had been chosen by Phil for his eyes.  He could see things no one else could see. And he kept looking until he saw all he could possibly see.  

He hadn’t needed to stay nearby to know when Steve found his envelope.  The picture of Bucky in that envelope was what he had been missing. It wasn’t the guy smiling or saluting or any of the other so-called good pictures.  It was a shot of Bucky staring at Steve as he directed the rest of the commandos. The sergeant had this little quirk that wasn’t quite a smile. His arms were folded as he leaned against the tree.  He was there, ready to step in if Steve needed a best friend. Otherwise, he would simply watch his best friend’s back. 

Clint knew Bucky was a sniper, just like the archer.  For a sniper, their true smile was when they were protecting their partner on the ground.  That was the Bucky Steve had known. 

Instead of hanging out near Steve, Clint had dropped on Bruce’s shoulders in the kitchen.  He’d needed Bruce’s help. He wanted the man to teach Thor how to make omelets the proper way.  Bruce had given him a look of surprise, but he’d eventually agreed. Clint smiled. Thor had liked the opportunity to learn to handle delicate objects.  And he loved to eat, so he was completely on board. 

Clint was already planning to drop on Bruce’s shoulders each time the man was in the room beneath him.  The man didn’t need people to avoid surprising him. He just needed the surprise to not be dangerous. Tony’s surprises varied in that sense.  Bruce still loved them. Nothing was more isolating than people tiptoeing around you.

After making sure Thor was enjoying the egg exercise, Clint had checked on the resident engineer.  He had swiped all the alcohol earlier and hidden it on the common room. Tony had yet to respond to Clint’s request for a spar.  He found the genius staring at the message on his screen.

_ Tony, _

_ If you got a moment, I’d love to spar.  I’ll give you more headaches than alcohol does, but I bet I can give you more laughs too. _

_ -Clint _

Clint left him to it.  He’d respond when he was ready.  

Clint smiled as he looked at his phone as it buzzed at him.  Stretching from his place on the couch, he grinned when he saw Tony’s request for a spar in an hour.  He looked down at the redhead resting against his chest. Her smile was soft and content as she listened to his heartbeat.  He was the only one who knew about her nightmares. He could tell as soon as she’d caught up to him earlier that she’d been looking for him because she’d had one.  It was a very specific nightmare. Only cured by the sound of a family’s heartbeat.

He knew, because he could see it in her eyes.

This was what Clint could see.


	2. Bruce’s Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Bruce heard his teammates and 1 time they heard him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I failed my exams that I was taking a break for. I should be posting another story in the next little bit that I wrote when I found out.

 

Bruce had spent much of his time the last few years taking in the world’s problems.  He couldn’t solve many of them, but he’d learned something about those problems over the last few years.  There was one thing he could do.

* * *

Steve frowned as he crashed into the side of the race track again.  Bruce glanced up from his book as the cartoon character swerved back on the track.

“Video games weren’t even an idea when I was a kid.  We had talkies, but the idea that we’d each have our own computer let alone one to play games with was outside even science fiction.”  Steve swerved and ran into a tall mushroom. Bruce watched as the man slumped as the whirling mask saved him again.

“It’s just like every other game, I just need practice.  I needed to practice fighting and everything else, so it makes sense that I would need to practice video games too.”  The little car drove off a cliff, chased after by the whirling mask again. Bruce set his book down and picked up the tablet to sign in to his account on the tower.

“I do like all the 3D art on the games.  It’s pretty swell how they can show multiple sides.  Like sculpting, but with light and in the computer instead of in the physical world.  And these little people are cute. I liked cartoons and comics like these before.”

Steve groaned as a rocket hit him and his car bounced several times.  Bruce put the finishing touches on his project and sent it to Tony for debugging. Jarvis popped a message saying Tony was busy so he would debug it.

“Clint likes this game a lot.  He and Tony play it. Tony is currently champion, but Clint is only a few seconds behind him.  I bet Clint overtakes Tony in another week or two. Then Tony will be working for it again.” His player crossed the finish line nearly 2 minutes behind the other racers.  Steve sighed and glanced at Bruce as the screen shifted to a new screen.

“New program, to help you design training runs.”

* * *

Thor winced as he washed his hands again.  He’d been working on scrambled eggs for a while now.  It had been Clint’s idea for Bruce to teach Thor how to make scrambled eggs.  “Mayhap this wasn’t one of Clint’s better ideas? I appear to be covering the counter in eggs more than the pan.”

Bruce handed him another egg and demonstrated rolling it on the counter without breaking it.  Thor picked it up to try again. “Soft touch has never been my strength. The delicacy of such was oft more Loki’s doing than mine.  I was left in awe of his intricate talent.” Thor gently rolled the egg. It made it around twice before it started to crack. Thor sighed heavily and picked it up.  Bruce noted it didn’t crush the second it was picked up. That was progress.

“Hath you a brother, Bruce?”  Bruce shook his head. Truthfully, he wouldn’t wish his father on anyone.  But he did have a cousin he’d lived with. He handed Thor another egg.

“I had thought I knew what a brother was.  I had thought a brother would follow you into battle.  He would know your moves as well as you knew his. It turns out that while I thought myself the best of us, Loki was more the true brother in that sense.”  Thor picked up the uncracked egg and smiled softly before bringing it over to the pan.

“Dwelling on this does naught now.  Mayhap nothing can help now. Loki may forever be beyond my reach.”  Thor cracked an egg into the pan, followed by its shell. Bruce grimaced at the mess in the pan for a moment, before dumping it and turning to hand Thor a carton.

Thor looked at the carton and smiled.

* * *

Clint sighed as he looked over the horizon.  The sun had set a few hours ago. He heard Bruce come out on the balcony next to him as he dangled his feet.  “I always liked the dusk. Everything is quiet right after sunset, like they are waiting for night to start.”

Clint leaned back on his hands as Bruce leaned on the handrail above his head.  “I used to practice about this time. Our shows were always either early afternoon or late evening.  Dusk was transition time. So I’d squeeze in a bit of practice.”

Clint formed a gun with his hand, “Had to hit my target.  Over and over again. I got so good, I was perfect. Too good.”  Clint dropped his hand to his lap.

He looked up again at the newly appearing stars.  “Phil told me that I should be careful of always hitting my target.  I didn’t listen.” Clint snorted, laughing at himself. Bruce met his gaze with a frown.

“I attacked SHIELD, Bruce.  I can still remember the way the magic felt.  How I felt with it. I attacked them and I killed agents I was supposed to be working with.”  Clint closed his eyes. He couldn’t bare to look his teammate in the eye right now.

“What if I do it again?”

Bruce opened his mouth, but Thor’s rambunctious voice called to them from inside.  Both sighed and Clint rose to see what the godling wanted. They were almost to the door when Bruce reached out his hand to speak to him.

 

* * *

Bruce smiled fondly as Tony paced around his workshop.  The board meeting had gone about as well as Bruce thought it could go.  They didn’t like Tony being an Avenger and they didn’t like that he’d stepped back into the role of CTO and head of R&D.  Normally Tony didn’t give a care about this, but something happened after the meeting.

“Maybe I was better before?”  Bruce shook his head, but didn’t say anything as Tony stopped pacing.  “Jason was a good guy. Sure he did some partying with me in my younger days.  But he was always responsible about it, you know. He’d drink, but not enough to be crazy drunk.  I know he experimented with pot, but nothing crazy. He even pulled me out of some bad scenes.”

Tony was now toying with a probe.  It was the same one he’d been shocking Bruce with that very morning.  “He would call Rhodey sometimes, when he didn’t think he could get me home alone.  They work together. When his father became big on the board, he didn’t change at all.  I mean he’s grown up a bit, less party and more work. He works in our marketing division, you know.”

Bruce watched as Tony scoffed and tossed the probe on the desk in irritation.  “He actually turned his life around from frat boy to a respected working guy. He’s always been a good sounding board, when I was trying to come up with the next big thing.  Even when I shut down the weapons section, he simply asked about the next big thing. I know he wasn’t happy about it, but no one was. He was the one to suggest staying with the army on non-weapons contracts at least.”

Tony glanced at Bruce a moment with a grin.  “He was even in New York for the invasion. Apparently I flew right over him.  He called up and asked if I was okay. Ever since I made Pepper the CEO, he’s been checking up on me. He’s-”

Bruce looked up from his data to see Tony mouth something to himself.  He touched his arm gently. Bruce stood and reached out in concern, “Tony?”

“He- Pepper has been trying to change the department.  He’d ask that I discuss it with her, but I never got around to it.”  Tony seemed to stare at the computer. “The changes Pepper’s making would mean a paycut for him, but it would be a lot better for the company.  It would also give him less responsibilities. They’d be shared.”

“Rhodey has never liked him.  He would always complain that Jason could have stopped me before I got that far.  I wouldn’t have listened to him, but looking back, he never called Rhodey until after I was a mess.”  Tony glanced at Bruce. He almost looked like he thought Bruce was going to berate him for the partying.

“After Obie, I was more careful, but Jason was one of the ones I let stick around.  I didn’t know until today that he was setting up to become CEO after me.” Bruce blinked in surprise.  Tony chuckled dryly. “Yeah, the rules about CEO being appointed by me? The ones I used to give the company to Pepper, turns out he’d orchestrated them.  They hadn’t been there when I’d inherited. Who knows, Obie might have the company then.”

Tony’s bitter tone washed over Bruce as he picked up a stylus.  “He lost composure today after the meeting. Told me everything.  How all he had done was supposed to make him my second in command, like Obie was for my father.  He was supposed to get the company because I had no heirs. How frustrating it had been to be unable to drive Rhodey away like all the others.”

Bruce looked up again from the data he’d been analyzing.  Tony had gone very silent. Finally Bruce sighed and stood.

“Want to science with me?”

Tony blinked at him in confusion.  Bruce waved a tablet in the air. “Calculations for a handheld static plasma field generator.

* * *

Bruce liked to cook.  He knew Steve did as well.  Tony and Clint didn’t like to cook, though Clint could if needed.  Thor may have liked to cook, if he could do it. At the moment they were still working on basic enough basics that the man couldn’t enjoy cooking.

But cooking with Natasha was always interesting, partially because Bruce still hadn’t decided if the assassin liked to cook.

“I think more sugar would be good?  Tony likes sweet.” Tasha had been putting a dessert bread together for over an hour now.  “Sugar makes things sweet. A dessert bread should be sweet and sticky. Or possibly crumbly.  But the recipe calls for exactly ½ cup. I should stick to that.”

As she worked around the kitchen, modifying the recipe she’d pulled up, Bruce had her add ingredients to his bowl as he beat the egg mess.  “I should start over. I wasn’t ever allowed to start over on something before. I always had to work with whatever mess I’d already made. Here, I added too much oil.  It only calls for ¼ cup and I added another tablespoon at least. But I can start over.”

Bruce asked her to turn on the stove top and place a fry pan on it to heat with a dab of oil.   She did so as she dumped her current mix and started a new batch of blueberry bread with lemon icing.  “I won’t get tablespoon and teaspoon mixed up this time. I just need the flour, salt and baking soda first.  Only 2 cups of flour. Once I was working in a bakery to get close to a target. She made the best scones. When I tried to cover the evidence of her death, I lit the place on fire.  I found out the hard way that flour explodes.”

Bruce watched as he started the oven on preheat when she got halfway through the recipe without any mistakes she’d noticed.  He also set a slice of bread in his bowl. “Okay, now the blueberries. How do you measure a cup of blueberries? They are round?  This is ridiculous! Probably why I do it. I can do all sorts of stuff most people can’t, but here is one that they can do and it’s completely ridiculous.”

Bruce knew better by now than to answer.  She hated when he gave her the answer to a direct question.  Instead, he transferred the fourth slice of bread from the bowl.  “Okay, I transfer the bread into the pan and put it in the oven. Is it at temp?  Not quite. I could stir the bread some more. More effort, better than 100%.”

Bruce requested she flip his slices of bread while he hunted in the fridge.  She really beat her recipes to death and if he could save them from that fate, all the better.  “The stove bread is flipped, the oven is on. I’ll set a timer and in 45 minutes we’ll have blueberry bread.  My teachers said assassins don’t bake. They don’t cook. They don’t do any of the things except as a cover.”

Natasha fell silent as Bruce asked her to take the french toast off the stove and stack it for him.  She was usually talkative when they cooked. It was like the food gave her a safe harbor to talk. To let out little tidbits of her time from before.  So he limited his comments.

“Can you slice and skin the brie?  You’re better with a knife than I am.”  

* * *

Bruce winced as he sat up.  He hated transforming back into Bruce in the middle of concrete rubble.  He knew from his team that Hulk loved the stuff, but it hurt his skin. He reached out automatically to pull himself up on the rubble, when a familiar metal hand caught his.

“Hey, Brucie-Bear.  I got you.” He leaned against Tony as the man picked him up.

“Sir, we can take it from here.”  The unfamiliar voice had Bruce flinching.  He glanced over to see paramedics hurrying over.  

“It’s fine.”  Steve stepped between the scientists and the eager EMT.  Bruce hadn’t even realized he’d shrunk away from the medical personnel.  “Please look over Hawkeye. He took a bit of a tumble from what Thor is saying.”

Bruce looked over to the archer in concern, only to smile.  The man was hopping gingerly. He was being helped by Natasha and a very enthusiastic Thor.  The two were arguing about the proper way to assist a wounded comrade. In the process, they were jerking said injured comrade around.  Clint seemed to be trying to calm them both down and get them to let him go. He was fine, apparently, since Tony whispered in Bruce’s ear that Clint and Nat were trolling Thor.  

The archer submitted to the medical exam under the threat of Thor’s pout.  He glanced at Bruce and rolled his eyes briefly. Steve glanced at Tony and spoke under his breath, “Head out Iron Man.  We’ll catch up after this drama plays out.”

Tony chuckled and took off.  Bruce felt warm inside at that.

* * *

Bruce had spent much of his time the last few years taking in the world’s problems.  

He watched as Steve took to the training program with ease.  Bruce had configured the training simulation room to work with a game controller.  The next time Steve tried to race, he didn’t get the controls nearly so mixed up. It was nice to recover in the common room surrounded by his team.

Thor and Clint were playing Mario Kart off to one side.  Thor’s scrambled eggs had been a hit last night. The last carton of eggs had included a note.

- _Never give up trying._

Thor seemed to take that to heart so a few hours later when he gone to get Clint, Thor had a platter of eggs for them to share.  Bruce had known the two of them could finish it by themselves, but he thought it would be nice if Clint knew his idea had been a success.  After all, as they walked inside, he’d told the archer that he’d hit his mark with a good idea too.

Natasha was reclining beside the gaming pair, probably researching recipes.  Her bread hadn’t turned out very tasty, Bruce suspected she had switched the baking soda and baking powder.  But she had made the french toast he’d been supervising and the team had loved the Brie French Toast she’d served them.  Her smile was worth it.

Bruce jerked more awake as Tony strode into the room with two metal rods.  “So I have the awesomeness, beyond awesome thing! Last night Brucie had the best idea about static plasma fields and I tweaked our final designed this morning.  We needed to up treat the final-”

“Tony!”  Steve’s fond exasperation was common enough that everyone chuckled, including Tony.  He pressed a button on the side of one of the metal tubes.

“Lightsabers!”  Clint squeaked as he all but leaped at Tony.  Bruce smiled as Tony playfully tried to keep the archer from climbing on him to get to the other one.  

Steve turned to Natasha, “What is a lightsaber?”

Absolute silence reigned.  Steve’s face flushed bright red as all but Thor stared at him.  

“Okay, no way!”  Tony straightened and frowned at the supersoldier.  “Nope, nuh-uh. You are not living in this sea of no knowledge any longer.  JARVIS! Star Wars marathon, STAT!”

Clint yipped and dashed for the kitchen shouting about popcorn.  Bruce heard Natasha ask casually which episodes they were going to watch, to which Tony replied that he wasn’t a heathen.  Bruce was tickled when he realized Tony didn’t actually answer.  They got distracted from the movie marathon when Clint got ahold of one of the lightsabers.  But no one seemed to mind.

Bruce knew he couldn’t solve many of them, but he’d learned something about those problems over the last few years.  There was one thing he could do.

Many people thought Bruce was a terrible listener, and he was.  But where he didn’t really listen to his friends, they were definitely heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I eat the brie recipe for breakfast, it is very good and very easy. You make regular french toast. Then, while its still hot, you stack a layer of brie between two slices and cover in fruit sauce/syrup. Very tasty, especially if you like savory salty foods. P:


	3. Tony's Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Tony accidentally or not tasted his teammates and 1 time...well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of the 5 senses, Taste could only be Tony. CLint had to be eyes and taste required someone who would be very silly and perfectly serious at the same time.
> 
> Holy fucking hell! I am so sorry. What was I on when I posted this!?! It made to fucking sense! Thank you to Rikas for letting me know that I lost my mind. This is better.

When people mention Tony’s mouth, most are referring to his very colorful use of language.  Tony could talk circles around everybody and anybody given half a reason. He had spent his life knowing how to act the perfect social genius his mother had intended for him to be.

By himself, however, was a different story.  Because when it was just Tony, he loved being eccentric.  He loved talking to his bots and wearing goofy, greasy t-shirts.  The green concoctions he drank and the holy affair he had with coffee barely scratched the surface of his quirks.  Oddities that made other people uncomfortable.  He had always known he had to hide that. People didn’t want the odd him.  Maybe a few eccentricities, but nothing more. People just didn’t want him.

* * *

Today was going to be a long day.  Tony knew that going into today.  Why?  Because tonight was the stupid gala that Pepper had talked his very clueless teammates into.  Well, except Natasha, she's not clueless.  See Tony had been doing public appearances for a long time.  He’d done many things most would find odd or crazy. Crazy was part of Tony.  It was part of Tony’s world, part of his life, part of being Tony.

Much of the world knew this thanks in large part to the fact that his crazy was publicized in many different locations.  You'd think his teammates would learn and benefit from his excessive experience, but instead they listened to Peppers.  Suckers!  The Gala had been Pepper’s idea originally, as a way to use the Avengers for charity of their choices.  The others had gone alone with the whole charity concept and design willingly.  Tony had tried to warn them. Charities and galas involved an evening of major suck!

At least the day didn't start with major suck.  He’d woken at the crack of dawn by his pillow groaning.  Frowning, he’d tried to sit up, only to find he was sitting up.  Or reclining at least.  And he had hair in his mouth. Not his hair either.  He knew what his hair tasted like and this was not it.

Bruce looked at him blearily as he dragged himself upright in the chair on which he had been precariously balanced for sleeping.  How he'd managed that without toppling is one of life's great mysteries.  Right next to Natasha's ESP and Steve earnest sincerity.  Slowly Tony picked the hair off his tongue as Bruce sat up straight in alarm.

“Tony!  What are you doing?”  Bruce’s loud voice echoed in the lab, but Tony barely gave it much notice.  

Instead he continued to stick his tongue out as he talked, “I’m micking hair oth of my tum.  Whath ip look like I’m booing?”

“Your tongue?”  Bruce sputtered.  “Tony, I have radiation under my skin!  You shouldn’t have any of my body in your mouth!”

Tony glanced at him and wagged his eyebrows at that, continuing to pick the hair off his tongue.  Bruce rolled his eyes.

“I mean it Tony.  We know its not safe.”

Tony grinned around his tongue.  “Buh, that’s why I’m micking your hair oth my tum.  It pastes like baby bamboo.”  There was one very elusive hair that was tickling his tongue incessantly.

“Toooonnnyyyyyy~”  Bruce’s whine only seemed to make Tony smile wider as he picked that last hair off his tongue and closed his mouth.

“Sorry, Brucie.  Can’t take you serious with all the curl horns.”

“Curl horns?”  Bruce’s outraged question had Tony sliding a shiny tray his way before sprinting out of the room.  Bruce had to admit, he did look like a strangely horned beast.

* * *

Tony wandered into the kitchen, having escaped a lecture, and was now seeking caffeine with which to wake his brain cells further.  The hair had irritated him into some cognition, but it rapidly dwindled without an offering from the caffeine hoard.  He was almost never up at this hour. Which also meant he almost never saw Steve pre-breakfast. The man ran in the mornings and then returned for a shower and then, most mornings, made them all breakfast.  At least Tony assumed that happened, since he rarely rose that early barring Pepper or Avengers emergencies.

This morning he wandered in to see Steve drinking from a coffee mug as he pressed start on a new pot of coffee.  Tony hadn't known the caffeine did anything for the supersoldier.  He puzzled this a moment before the rest of Steve's action filtered through his sleep-drunk brain.  

“Coffeeeeee!”  Tony’s whine had Steve spinning in alarm.  The coffee in the cup sloshed, practically covering the large hand and Tony looked at the waste dark substance mournfully.  “Noooooooo!”

“Tony!”  Steve backed away from the pouting engineer.  “I didn’t realize you were up! I just started a new pot, but it’ll take 20 minutes.”  Steve waved his hand to fling off the dripping brown liquid as Tony frowned sadly.

“Bu-bu-but... Coffeeeeeee!”  Tony snatched the cup Steve set down to find a cloth to wipe his hand and arm.  The mug was empty too. Tony stared at it wondering how it could be empty. He needed coffee.

“I’m sorry, Tony.  I didn’t realize you wer- Ahhh!”  Steve was turning back around when he felt something latch onto his arm.  It was heavy enough that before he braced himself, it pulled his hand to the floor.  Looking over he saw the sleep-deprived engineer had wrapped himself around his arm and was licking his coffee-covered hand.

“Tony!”  Steve’s admonishment was probably diminished by the blush he could feel rising from his cheeks.  He was rarely touched like this. Or at all really. After the serum worked only Bucky and the Commandos really touched him, in that hugging, comrade sort of way.  It was one of the things he missed most.  The Avengers only recently evolved to that level of camaraderie.  Tony had yet to really participate in this physical affection much.

Trust this man to ignore all that for coffee.  It was so startling, Steve didn’t even try to remove him as much as let him slide off his arm as he stood.  Tony whined as he practically oozed onto the floor.

“Coffee…”

* * *

For the most part Clint and Tony got along great.  For one thing they were both pranksters.  They set up the great Gatorade waterfall in the stairwell.  That was to get back at marketing for their comment about Pepper.  Then there was the cookies grown from cement. Thor still believed he could plant cookies in the sidewalk with enough TLC.  That was to get back at those construction guys who catcalled Natasha last mission. No one could forget the silly putty explosion.  It had happened to Steve, but the target had been Stilwell.  Both pranksters made any who belittled or derogate any member of their small family.  SHEILD agents learned to tread gently around Bruce and to accept Thor's manor of speak without comment for fear of prank reprisals.   

But the greatest pranks, Tony and Clint created were on each other.  Clint had a full day where his phone broke into “Barbie Girl” if another person started speaking to him.  Tony’s beard was dyed brilliant green for a day several times. Both had been covered in feathers more than once and Tony still treated all plastic cups with wary caution.

So when Bruce walked in to find Tony and Clint pointing at each other yelling “You first!”,  he didn’t think much of it. A moment later, Tony engulfed Clint’s finger with his mouth. This only served to provoke Clint to do the same with Tony’s finger.  At which point they both continuously made the noise consistent with “You first” if one has a finger in one’s mouth.

Steve sighed next to Bruce, causing the scientist to jump.  “Do you know what they are doing?”

Bruce shook his head, but didn’t really have a chance to answer since both pranksters turned to them and yelped around the finger still in their mouth.

“He thtarted it!”

* * *

The major suck of the day started at the gala.  Tony was trying to avoid his usual escape, via the open bar by checking on his teammates in a rare moment of quiet between vampire rangling, i.e. conversations.  Looking around the room, he spotted Natasha and Clint blending expertly.  No surprise there, they'd done this song and dance for undercover ops for years.  Bruce somehow found a group of environmental engineers early on and appeared to be using them as camouflage.  For the most part, it was working. Steve was doing his “Aww Shucks” blush. Tony gave him at least 30 more minutes before that became an actual cover for distress. Until then, he was content to let the man get by on his “old fashioned manners”.

Thor, on the other hand was at the dessert table.  There, Tony saw trouble. A buffet was something they had yet to fully explain to Thor in a way he understood.  As Tony approached, he saw Thor turn to the woman next to him with a wide smile.

“This is a grand feast.  Surely it is to celebrate the great things of the lands.  Have you tried this pie of cream?  It is most delicious.” Thor’s question might have been better received had he not held out a finger covered in banana cream pie to the woman.  Both the woman and her two companions sneered at the finger, shying away from the whole conversation.

That didn’t really surprise Tony much.  Kindness, these people embodied not. In fact, he was impressed that Thor seemed to stumble on a impressive method for dissuading conversations at a gala.  He’d think to remember it, except it probably wouldn't have the same effect for him.  Such was his life. For the moment, however, he wanted to do something about the hurt look that was stealing across Thor’s face at their titters, which were spreading through the crowd like wildfire.

“Thor!  Which pie is that?”

Thor turned to Tony with a careful smile.  “I believe it is Cream of Banana, Man of Iron.  Would you like a taste?” Thor didn’t offer him the finger as he had the women, but Tony could feel the crowds sneers behind him.  This was familiar territory for him, controlling the attention and opinion of a crowd of sheep.  Thor's social gaff unchained his inner imp.

Instead of try to cover it, since that rarely worked, Tony embraced the flow.  He grabbed Thor’s hand and licked the pie off.

Of course, this stopped most conversations in the room cold.  He didn’t dare look at Pepper. Instead he smiled and looked at the dessert table.  “Hmmm. Not bad, but I usually prefer the blueberry. Do you see any here?”

Thor looked through the table zealously.  He really encompassed all traits to good for the like of this crowd.  Finding it, Thor pointed to it, careful to keep his finger out of the pie this time.  But Tony decided, in for a penny, ect. Tony stuck his own finger in the pie and held it up to his teammate.

Thor smiled merrily at him as the godling tasted the pie.

Of course, the food fight that broke out a few minutes later was none of their fault.  Really, you couldn’t even prove it came from the dessert table.

* * *

Tony had slipped into the coatroom for a breather from the aerial chicken salad that he had been ducking when he found his hiding spot already in use.  He turned to greet the other hiding guest, when two slender hands grabbed his lapels and pulled him deep into the coats.

“ _Shhh!_ ”  Natasha hissed at him, but another man had already seen Tony, or at least part of his coat or the movement or any of the many possible tells of someone being dragged into a coatrack.  Natasha growled and pulled Tony closer, smashing their faces together as the man stuck his face in between two coats.  Tony wasn’t convinced they were seen per se but the man at least decided to bug out rather than stick around.  Probably a good thing, because an additional second of observation would have shown Tony's flailing arms and given up the trick.  He fault perfectly justified in feeling wrong-footed, Even entertaining the idea of kissing Natasha was hazardous to one's health, so he'd certainly put that thought to rest so hard, it was practically in it grave.

“ _Okay?  Who was that?”_  Tony’s first breath after Tasha released his lips were full of questions.  She gave him that creppy, knowing smile.

“ _Theif, maybe a spy.  Thanks for the disguise._ ”  Tony grinned and saluted before ducking back out into the food fight, deciding flying appetizers exhibited less dangers than the assasin.  He saw her creep out of the room a moment later after the man. He made sure to turn on his comm before picking up a handful of fish to throw at Joss. 

Just in case.

* * *

As they made their way out of the ballroom, Pepper’s words still ringing in Tony’s ears, he tapped his com to connect to Natasha.

“Tasha, any word on your target?”  Steve's head jerked to look at him from where he had been trying to wring his tie out.  He had gotten a bowl of punch dumped on him rather early on trying to be a gentleman and protect a few elderly ladies.  Tony could have told him they didn’t need it. Though they did pick up a plate of sandwiches apiece to defend his valor.

“He’s circling around to the parking lot.  Heads up.” Steve turned his com on and heard her as well.  Their leader becoming more alert served to alert the rest of the group who weren’t on comms, i.e. Bruce and Thor.  Tony wasn’t sure Clint was ever _not_ listening to comms when they were away from home.

The man came out of nowhere, running at them yelling.  This, of course, gave the team time to arrange themselves a bit more defensively.  Tony wondered if the man was actually sane. Of course, if the Black Widow was tailing Tony, the engineer would probably be just as desperate.

Steve met the man first.  He wasn’t a big man, but he was determined.  Steve seized the coat, probably to avoid injuring the man, but the guy just slipped out of the sleeves and Steve was left holding an empty trenchcoat.  Clint and Tony approached next, but the man body-slammed Tony directly.

“No more war!”

The growl in Tony ear went ignored when the man squeezed a pouch that covered them in a powder.  Clint pulled him off Tony quickly, but the billionaire's attention focused firmly on his physical state. Whatever that powder was, it was working fast.  Already, his lungs were seizing. He gasped as he flailed out to grab something, anything that could help him breath.

Rough hands gripped his and his head was tilted back.  Someone might have been talking, but Tony couldn’t tell.  A moment later a mouth covered his and forced hot air into his lungs.  It wasn’t fresh air, almost stale from being in someone else’s body, but Tony didn’t care at this point.

The mouth disappeared, but before Tony could worry about air again, it returned, giving him another breath.  He couldn’t seem to convince his arms to move either. He saw flashing lights as another breath was given to him by the warm mouth.

He didn’t know whose mouth that was, but he would remember to tell them their breath tasted like fruit loops.

Then he let himself fall.

* * *

He hated the beeping that meant he would see a medical room when he opened his eyes.  A deep sigh told him he could breath again, which was a relief. Carefully, he opened his eyes.  His entire team was crammed into the medical room.  Luckily he'd designed the Tower's medical rooms large. He tried to lift his hand to nudge the closest person, Bruce, but all he could do was hiss a breath out.

It woke them regardless.  Tasha and Clint immediately scoured the door and window, respectively, for trouble.  Steve and Bruce stood and gripped his hands gently as Thor sat forward with a worried smile.

“Easy Tony. You’re okay.”  Tony glanced at Bruce.  He couldn’t speak, but Bruce would know what he wanted to say.  “Turbocurarine. Diluted with ash, thank the gods. You didn’t get a fatal dose outright.”

Tony blinked as the information ran through his head.  Turbocurarine was a paralytic, originally used in surgery as anesthesia.  In high enough doses, it paralyzed the diaphragm, causing death by suffocation.

“Easy,”  Steve eased Tony upright more.  “The man did get a lethal dose. They are still trying to ID him.”  Steve glanced at Tasha.

“He was the thief we saw.  He was going by Stan Goldred.  We think you were his original target, but we still don’t know why.”  Nastash twirled a knife in frustration.  Tony huffed as he leaned back. He was sure there was more to tell, but at the moment, it took effort to breath, so he was saving his energy for that.

At least now he knew his team would help him breath if it came to that.  Even if they did taste of fruit loops.

Suddenly he was laughing.  It was breathy, huffing laugh, but he couldn't stop.  It was several minutes before he regained the ability to answer the teams worried questions.

“In the last 24 hours, I've learned what all of you taste like.”

No one seemed to know what to say to that.  What could they say to the odd genius they cared so much about.  They could only smile, because the oddities remained one of the reason they were all so accepted by Tony.

Even if it was also why he tasted all of them today.

* * *

Tony’s mouth was known for its ability to control a group of people or squash the egos of kings.  To some it may even be legendary for more pleasurable affairs. Very few knew of Tony’s true eccentric nature.  The playfulness and unique approach to life he exuded.

But he had finally found a group of people who knew of his new use for his mouth.


	4. Steve's Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Steve relaxed to the smell of his team and one time he knew they understood because they could smell him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather bittersweet compared to Tony's, but I feel it shows Steve gentle side a bit

When Steve got the serum, everyone told him he would be enhanced.  All of him expanded beyond not only his limitation but human limitations.  He had expected the memory changes, the physical changes and even some minor corrections to things like his eyesight.  No one had warned him about the rest of his senses. Sure the hearing was a pain, but people were used to working with varying hearing and sight abilities.  His tactile sense took some training, but his sense of smell was the odd ball.

No one talked about smells in polite company.  Steve had no idea what to do about it. The first time he opened one of hte keepsakes from his mother, he sat down and wept for missing her.  Every smell was a memory, so strong it sometimes caught him off guard.

Now, with nothing but his memories to prove the people in his life existed back then, smells had become part of him.

* * *

Steve sighed as he settled back against the wall.  Tony was still sleeping off the drug that had risked his life earlier.  Bruce wanted him here overnight instead of upstairs, in case his breathing took a turn for the worse.  Steve offered to remain on watch.

He knew what it meant to not be able to breath.  To fear that the next time you woke, it wasn’t because you were rested, but because your body couldn’t find oxygen.  Just thinking about it sent a shiver through him.

He’d been told that smell was the most powerful trigger for memory.  Sitting in this hospital, he could believe it. Although his memories from before the serum were not as clear as they were after the serum, he did still have them.  Hospitals had changed a lot in the 70 years he was missing. In a way he was glad for it. Outside the obvious medical advances and such, they did smell different. And here in the medical room in the tower, it smelled even more different.  The sounds, the smells, even the colors were a stark contrast to the medical facilities of old.

Steve glanced up at the still figure in the bed.  There was a machine next to Tony that had been breathing for him.  That was a modern miracle as far as Steve was concerned.

He could remember when his mother first got sick.  It had always been a danger, her being a nurse and all, but they had thought Steve would be the one in danger far more than Sarah.  He could remember the look on the doctor’s face when he brought the X-Ray results into the room. A death sentence, from pneumonia to TB, meant his mother went straight from the hospital bed to the sanatorium.  He could remember the smell of her hair as he gave her a hug before she left. He kept her shampoo until he shipped out.

Steve glanced up, realizing that he was dwelling again.  He’d swore he’d stop doing that. He looked over at Tony.  Bruce had dropped off some of his clothes for the morning. Including a sweatshirt Steve had seen the engineer wear in the workshop several times.  

Steve glanced at the door, but he doubted anyone was coming by unless the machine alerted someone to a problem with Tony’s vitals.  Reaching over, he snagged the sweatshirt and held it up. It was definitely old and probably not originally Tony’s given the size. Steve guessed Tony wore it for comfort.

It had “MIT Aim High!” scrawled over the front and “Air Force - Fight Fly Win” across the back.  Steve could smell the workshop on it though. The motor oil and lubricant Tony always seemed to cover himself in when working on a car.  The sweat and BO Tony wouldn’t notice still clung to the shirt despite obvious washings. Steve swore he could even smell one of Dum-E’s smoothies spilled on the shirt.  

Whatever it was on the shirt, Steve found it driving away the memories.  He didn’t even notice as he slowly relaxed in the chair into sleep.

* * *

Being a soldier meant that Steve wasn’t a sound sleeper.  Even in the safety of the tower, he was alert and woke instantly when something in his environment changed.  Steve kept still automatically until he located the difference.

“I thought you were going to rest Clint.”  A huff from the vent above him proved him right.

“How do you always know?”  Steve ignored his whine. He wasn’t about to give his secret away.  Besides his senses were well above others, so it was unlikely another used his method to identify the vent-dweller.

“Did you at least get some rest?”  A snort followed Steve’s question.

“Better rest than you did.  That chair comfy?” Clint’s sarcasm had a thread of concern so Steve let it go.  He settled himself more firmly in the chair as Clint spoke again. “I’ll keep watch Steve, go ahead and rest.”

Steve almost told him he had no intention of resting, but Tony’s shirt was still on his shoulder and he could still smell the oil Clint used on his gear coming from the vent.  Just as Tony’s scent had chased away the memories, Clint’s scent proved he was guarded.

He could rest.

* * *

Bruce’s entrance woke him the same way Clint’s had, by smell.  The doctor was carrying three mugs of tea. Steve thought he would forever associate herbal tea with the quiet genius.  Bruce knew everyone’s favorites. He knew which teas helped Steve after a nightmare and which teas helped when a battle frustrated the super-soldier.  

Steve had seen the biologist coax Tony and even Natasha into drinking teas that later proved to have an impact on their health.  A cup of the right tea could gently put Tony to sleep or calm Natasha out of a scary mood. Steve wasn’t even sure how Bruce knew how to approach Natasha when she was in that mood.  Maybe his invincibility gave him some added courage.

Either way, Steve was used to Bruce coming by with a mug when he was down and the scientist knew about it.  Bruce handed him two of the mugs before dragging a chair under the vent. A whuff of a sigh told them both that Clint was going to let Bruce hand him the mug.

“You know, those vents can’t be all that clean, Clint.”  Bruce said mildly as he handed the fragrant liquid over. “Try not to catch any dust bunnies in your respitory tract.”

Steve wasn’t certain what exactly that meant, but he could give a good guess.  Over the months he had learned to read between lies with Bruce and Tony, especially when they used such...scientific words.  Both were willing to explain them, but Tony’s explanations usually got sidetracked by a randomn tangent and Steve rarely was able to circle him back around to the original point.  And Bruce’s explanation usually included words just as complicated as the one Steve didn’t know in the first place.

As such, he’d learned to simply let them talk and only ask when it was vitally important he understand.  So, for the moment, he decided to drink his tea and enjoy Bruce’s calming presence and scent.

* * *

Convincing Tony to rest was an exercise in frustration at the best of times.  It made one homicidal at the worst of it. Steve knew that he wasn’t at his best as they herded Tony into the couch in the common room.  Tony was not interested in sitting still. He’d been in that bed for 10 hours and according to him, that was long enough to drive anyone batty.  Bruce had indulged a quick trip to see DUM-E, but otherwise, the genius was staying put another day.

They had called ahead, and Natasha had the room set up for the movie marathon.  Steve had not yet seen something called Star Wars and Tony had explained in a loud and rather nonsensical fashion that this was unacceptable.  Steve just went with it. Clint told him it was 15 hours of movie watching, so if it kept Tony on the couch for 15 hours, Steve was willing to forward his “modern” education a bit.  

Although movie marathons usually started with everyone in a comfortable, normal seat, they always ended with a puppy pile of bodies.  Thor and Steve commonly ended up the backbone of the pile with Tony, Bruce and Natasha draped around them. Clint remained the last hold out most of the time, sliding into look out when Natasha eventually relaxed.

This time the puppy pile moved around Tony.  By the time the Phantom Menace was over Thor cradled his torso to keep his chest upright and Natasha sat against his legs.  Halfway through Revenge of the Sith, Bruce fell asleep and Clint caught him before he could topple off the couch.

Steve found himself waking to a desert scene with two burned skeletons and a teen in mourning.  At some point, Natasha must have pulled him over because his head was in her lap. He made to rise, but her fingers scratched gently against his scalp and he found himself relaxing against her thigh.  He didn’t usually sleep through movies, but something about her scent was calming. That combined with the feel of her fingers lulled him back into the relaxed world of dreams.

* * *

Bruce stopped the films for dinner after the end of The Empire Strikes Back.  Steve had slept through much of the movie, so while Bruce was ordering food with Clint, Tony explained what he’d missed.  Since the point was for Tony to rest, Steve worried this meant he wasn’t, but Thor took him aside as they walked towards the kitchen to let him know that Tony slept through the first three movies and much of the fourth.  Steve assumed the genius had simply seen them before.

Steve helped Thor find the various dishes and cutlery for dinner.  The two of them both had to watch their strength, so it was nice to work together.  Steve was more familiar with the objects they were handling, but Thor had much more experience in managing his own strength.  Doing these types of things together helped them to bond.

Thor was the first person Steve had told about the lonliness his strength had granted him in the 40s.  Ever since, Thor had been his goto sparing partner for when he wanted to let off some steam. Thor was safe, Steve didn’t have to watch himself as closely.  Additionally, Thor was raised to lead his people. Steve wasn’t required to be his commander.

Steve hadn’t noticed, but he’d subconsciously associated Thor’s scent with that sense of safety net.  As though someone would catch him and had the strength to hold him up.

“Come, my friend!  Let us continue that space journey!”

* * *

Steve huffed as he tossed his shirt at the laundry bin.  Tony had finally fallen fast asleep and Steve had been able to sneak out of the room, leaving him in Bruce’s capable hands for the night.  Steve just wanted to collapse. Between Tony’s near-fatal attack and then handling his recovering personality, the super-soldier’s patience was gone.

He flopped on the bed.  Steve frowned and reached an arm down to snag the hard plastic digging into his side.  Opening one tired eye, he saw a shampoo bottle with a note taped to it. On the bottle displayed a handwritted label, “Futuristic Dollards Vegetable Hair Wash”.  Steve felt tears come to his eyes. His mother had used that hair wash all the time. He cracked the lid and immediately the smell came back to him and before he knew it, he was on the ground sobbing and holding the bottle close.

It smelled like his mother hugging him before leaving for work.  It smelled like Bucky helping him bath when he could barely breath.  It smelled of the corner store lady and her candy. It smelled like basecamp and all the guys starting a water fight in the showers because Gabe’s mother was well off and sent him the wash.  He opened the note.

“Thought you’d like a scent of home.  Tony, Clint and Natasha got the ingredients list and Thor found the bottle last week.  Let me know if you run out.

-Bruce

PS Take a shower, you stink! -Clint

* * *

When Steve recovered from Erskine's experiment, everyone told him he was enhanced.  Beyond his limitations, or the limitations of any man. But there were limitations not even the serum could fix.  In some ways Steve couldn’t call them limitations anymore. If having his friends and family around, if having these memories made him weak, then he would accept that.

Because much like the serum, these scents had become part of his existence.


	5. Thor's Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times Thor reached out to touch his comrades, and once when he did not need to reach, because they were already there.

One of the biggest cultural oddities Thor noticed on Midgard involved their communications.  On Asgard, much of their joy was told through contact. Not that the songs were not great and the laughter rolling, but Thor remembered centuries of hugs and hand pats.  Touch carried its own message.

On Midgard, this appeared less true.  And more true at the same time. Thor noticed it every time he touched his teammates, Midgardians epitomized touch starvation, a malady almost unknown on Asgard.  If that was what they craved, then that, Thor shall provide.

* * *

Thor had the closest bond with Steven.  The other man portrayed a strength that belied his birth and in the home of his birth, both men modified their strength to prevent damages.  Thor had not realized how much his Captain hungered for contact, for connection until a day sparing when Steven revealed the disparity in strength he held over his comrades.  The wonder that allowed Steve to be Captain America, also destroyed his physical equality. It was lonely to be the only. Thor made a note to mention it to Tony (not Anthony), the Man of Iron would enjoy the word play.

Jane explained previously how protective Midgardians could be regarding what she called ‘personal space’.  Thor did not mind, though he did miss the skin contact, he’d been raised enough a diplomat to recognize another culture and adapt.  

Thor ignored that when Steven broke down to tell him how lonely the man remained.  At first Thor knelt beside him, offering what comfort his presence could without crossing the contact taboo this culture promoted.  This problem intensified when Midgardian science learned Steven was not aging as his fellow Midgardians did. Here Thor had experience since Jane was aging far faster than Thor ever would.  He was barely an adult at a Millenia and he expected several more Millenia prior to growing old. When friend Bruce had sent Thor to talk to Steven after delivering such news, Thor had leaned against the fellow warrior, touching but no more than barely.

With the near loss of Man of Iron the previous night, Thor decided to stick close to the Captain.  Steven rose with the sun the next day as he did every other day. Thor did not understand the running activity Steven did every morn, but he would wait in the kitchen patiently.  

When Steven returned, both set about cooking breakfast for the team.  Steven patiently helped Thor work with the eggs. Of the 30 they used, Thor only accidentally broke 3, and one of them was only a little broke.

Thor settled next to Steven at the counter, each with their share of the steaming bounty.  Thor saw the normally steady hands shake as Steven scooped his breakfast. They had not discussed the events after the gala.  Thor was uncertain whether they needed to, since emotional words seemed to trip the Captain up, as Clinton said. 

Finally, Thor reached over and lay his arm lightly upon Steven’s shoulder.  The muscles under his own tensed.

“Thor?”

“On Asgard, when one warrior wishes to express concern or camaraderie with another, this is the favored method.  I am uncertain as to the comparable method in Midgard. Will this suffice?”

Steven blinked at his plate before letting out a shuddering breath.  Then his entire body relaxed into Thor. He allowed Thor to pull him closer.

From now on, this was how Thor would bond with Steven.  The man appeared to need it as much as Thor wished to bestow.

* * *

Clinton’s entrance into the communal food area broke the tableau of the embrace.  Steven tensed, but ultimately did not break contact. Thor decided he would not do so either.  

The archer scurried for the food and filled his plate, and mouth, before turning to look at the two.  He blinked at the pair. Steven’s face colored in embarrassment, which made little sense to Thor. Perhaps Steven was worried about judgement for ignoring a taboo.  Thor was confident Clinton would not judge them so. The observant archer collected information to distribute, but not to judge. 

He did, however, have a sense of humor.  Thor watched in interested as chewing slowed displaying the redirection of Clinton’s mental focus as he considered the pair.  Upon swallowing, Thor recognized the look upon his face as one of preparation. In his more sly comrades, this preparation was for information gathering.

“Are we adding group hugs to breakfast now?”  Thor felt Steven tense up. Flexing his hand in comfort for his comrade, Thor smiled at Clinton.

“If desired, on Asgard such contact is common.  I greatly enjoy breaching Midgardian taboos in this fashion!”

Clinton seemed momentarily stunned before a wide grin covered his face.  Steven tensed again, but it was for naught because Clinton displayed his rousing flexibility and balance by hopping onto the counter without toppling his plate.  Clinton seemed to frequently to ignore gravity. A situation he repeated now by flipping himself over and landing solidly on Thor’s shoulder.

“So you like touch, Big and Blond?”  

Thor grinned.  He could feel Clinton’s feet shift as he balanced expertly on Thor’s broad shoulder.  Thor laughed. “Indeed, my friend. It is the honor of connection to have contact with my comrades.”  

Clinton swung his legs down so he was seated on Thor’s shoulder, “Sweet!  I can ride sometimes?”

“I would be gratified if you would break Midgardian taboo so.”

* * *

“Sounds like the start of a good time.”  Anth-Tony’s voice rang out and Thor saw Steven turn and frown at their possibly injured teammate.  Tony rarely remained sedentary along enough to heal as proscribed by others. “Also, potential PR disaster, so I should warn Pepper.”  

Thor felt Clinton lean forward to place his empty plate on the counter, before sliding off Thor to join Tony in his walk across the room.  Despite the joviality of his commentary, the man himself walked gingerly. Thor glanced to see Steven frowning at the man, but he remained in his seat, letting Clinton assist the metal-less Iron Man to the counter to break his fast.

“Just turning Thor into a jungle gym.”  Thor wasn’t certain what Clinton meant, but he was smiling, therefore Thor took the reply in stride.  

“Your Midgardian taboo regarding touch between friends shall henceforth be vanquished between myself and Steve and Clinton.”  Thor was proud he had convinced two of his comrades of this. They gained such comfort from his presence that their taboo was not necessary was a point of pride.

“Ah, Excellent.”  Anth- Tony appeared in discomfort with this development.  “That’s great Point Break.”

Thor regarded his fellow flying comrade a moment.  This discomfort rang false, as though Tony wished something besides his statement.  “Mayhap you are uncomfortable with the removal of this taboo, Friend Tony?”

“No way.”  Anth-Tony waved his hand, “I’m free love, you know.  Share and share alike. The hippee movement happened before I could join, but I heard it was all flowers, you know.  And Cap missed out, so anyone who missed out on the free love of the 70s should get the chance to experience it. Sure, share and break our taboos.  They are silly anyway, always getting in the way of a good time and good friends. Does this mean you’re sharing more? Oh look breakfast! I claim this plate!  First I need coffee, who made coffee?”

Steven finally got up, to intercept Tony stalking the coffee pot. “No, no coffee until tomorrow.  You know that, Tony!” 

Thor let Steve’s discussion with Tony fade as he thought about his comrades speech.  An-Tony frequently spoke more than he said, however, Thor had learned that with his comrades, Tony did actually give information if one could decipher the meaning from his verbal riddles.  As someone less coached in words, Thor often needed time to work out what Clinton called word vomit. Loki was far superior to Thor in his way with words.

Still if given enough time Thor could untangle the verbal weave Tony presented him with.  He supported contact, equated it with high regard. There had been a point in Midgardian history when it was not taboo, but it had preceded An- Tony’s birth.  No, friend Tony said he missed it, implying a desire to have been present. The presence of this taboo made him have a less good time or less good friends. Friend Tony desired contact as well.

Thor wondered if Midgardians naturally refused to request assistance outright, or if it was a cultural teaching.  He watched as Steve led Tony back to the counter. Tony’s face was doing what Bruce referred to as pouting, but the smaller man leaned into the arm Steven had wrapped round the thin shoulders.

“Agent Barton, you have an incoming call from Agent Sarrow.”  Clinton sighed before waving at them and disappearing out a door.  Thor saw Steven frown after him, but remained with Tony as the man continued to eat a moment longer before following the archer.  Thor watched as Tony’s shoulders dropped and the man seemed to curl into himself as he ate.

Thor rose and placed his plate in the sink.  The moment he moved, Tony’s shoulder went back and Thor saw the public facade of strength of a leader fall upon his shoulders.  Thor knew well the pressure of such a position.

Thor placed a hand on the side of Tony’s plate and leaned over his other shoulder, bracketing is friend.  “Breaking this taboo is an honor I would care to experience with all my teammates.” Thor tried to keep his tone gentle, as if coaxing a scared baby flock.  “I would enjoy contact with you as well.”

Tony tensed, but Thor had learned patience in the last year.  Now he placed his faith in this. Slowly, Tony relaxed and leaned back.  Thor could hear his voice, though he doubted a normal Midgardian would hear it,  “Yeah, I could do that.”

* * *

When Thor had a question about something Midgardian, he’d gotten into the habit of asking Bruce when Jane was unavailable.  Bruce always appeared interested in Thor’s question and it was a way for Thor to interact with his comrade outside the green skin.  In many ways Thor preferred Hulk. They both were very similar. 

Their love of battle, when not pressing terribly, was matched by their mutual competition.  Meeting him in battle was fun. Thor relished the rush. However this left him with difficulty relating to his teammate’s more fragile side.

Bruce had taken this in stride for the most part and they had bonded over exploring the differences in their respective cultures, such as cooking.  When A-Tony left the kitchen for his workshop, Thor left to find Bruce. 

Bruce was in what he referred to as his ‘meditation circle’ that Tony had created for him.  He spent some time each day here. Thor believed Bruce spent much of this time communing with his larger half.  

He didn’t have to wait long before Bruce gave the young godling his attention.  Thor always watched in fascination when the flash of green swirled in his bi-person friend.

“Friend Bruce.  I have a new item on our list of “Cultural points of Interest”.  Ant-Tony had dubbed their discussions as a grand list and had the everpresent JARVIS track the topics.  Thor greatly enjoyed looking back on the list with JARVIS’s input as the no-bodied friend often felt as much confusion as Thor in this culture, simply with greater span of information.

“Oh?”  Bruce remained in his “calming” position as he invited Thor to continue.  

“I have observed a touch taboo.  On Asgard, touch is not taboo, even when in front of others.  Why is it so in Midgard?” Thor sat on the stone next to Bruce and started to doodle in the sand in front of him.  

Bruce shrugged, which was a common reaction to Thor initial question.  “I’m not certain. To some extent touch is a vulnerability. Touch is also a form of power and control.”  Bruce frowned. “With these common uses, it is no wonder polite society would frown on touch.”

Thor regarded him with intrigue, “Do you find touch invasive?”

Thor almost missed his friend wincing.  Bruce closed his eyes, “I rarely have a say in those who touch me.”

“That was not my question, my friend.”  Thor made sure to keep his voice kind and gentle.  In both his forms, Bruce responded negatively to ill-considered words and voice.  However, in this form, Thor automatic response of bravado usually qualified

“What brought this up?”

Thor smiled as he thought.  “I have discovered that our good captain desires, nay yearns for this contact.  I believe Tony similarly wishes to seek this connection. Even the Midgardians not my comrades, I have observed they desire this touch.  With so many seeking this connection, why would touch be taboo here?”

Bruce sighed, “as I mentioned, touch can be used to hurt someone.  And not all people like being touched. I don’t.”

Thor gestured for him to continue, “Touch can remind people of things.  For me, I either remember my father or my mother and for different reasons, neither is comfortable.”  Thor nodded solemnly. He had coaxed the death of Bruce’s mother out of the quiet scientist already and Thor had needed several hours alone, sparking lightning to resolve the horror in the core of his being at what Bruce witnessed so young.

“However,” Bruce’s hesitant voice brought Thor’s attention back into the room.  “The other guy is a different matter.”

Thor grinned widely, mayhap his larger shield brother would enjoy more relaxed interaction as well as sparing.

“I have noted that Tony gives the Other Guy hugs and hand pats and my memories of those moment, though fractured, are positive.  In fact, they are some of the only positive memories I believe I have of being...different.”

Thor nodded, happily.  “Verily, I shall discuss with Hulk next time we meet!  My shield brothers and I shall triumph over this taboo!”

Bruce smiled at that.  He patted Thor on the arm as he rose, likely to find sustenance of his own.

“Victory to the Avengers!”

* * *

Natasha beckoned as Thor followed Bruce out of the meditation circle.  Thor followed the woman gamely as she led him to the grand target area.  Her and Clinton used the room for practice in their long range weapons. There were several perches and obstacles for such practice and again Thor marveled at Tony’s understanding of a weapon he himself did not actually use often.

There were several sections jutting out into the room, but one in particular protruded a hands-breadth above Thor’s reach and continued up.  This faux ceiling caught Thor’s attention by its privilege of being impaled by a small knife.

The Lady was standing beneath the knife, glaring at it.  Thor withheld a chuckle, well familiar with Natasha’s frustration when climbing surrounding did not result in the necessary location.  From early on, Thor had exhibited a willingness to perform the function of a stairway and Natasha had taken him seriously.

He stood underneath the knife solidly and let Natasha climb him lightly.  He’d tried lifting her, but she hadn’t enjoyed that. As he watched her work the knife out of its crevice, he posed an invitation, “Many of my comrades have agreed to assist me in breaking a Midgardian taboo, would you care to participate?”

Natasha glanced down at him from her perch on his shoulder.  “Which taboo and was this Tony’s or Clint’s idea?”

Thor chuckled.  “Nay, tis my idea.  I have discovered that our comrades would be okay if I broke the Midgardian taboo of ‘no touching’.”  Thor raised an arm obligingly when it looked like the knife wriggling would require wider stance for Natasha to maintain her balance.

The fair warrior snorted.  “Are you sure this wasn’t Clint’s idea?”  Thor shook his head, but had no chance to respond since she continued, “I’m assuming you mean hugs and pats on the back?”

Thor’s grin widened.  “Aye. Steven enjoyed my embrace earlier, as did Antho-Tony.  The only person who had expressed a desire to remain outside this is Bruce.”  Thor shifted as the knife came free and Natasha crouched on his shoulder to look down at him.

“You want hugs?”

“Aye, both to give and to receive.  There is little better comfort than the embrace of one you trust.”

Lady Natasha seemed to study him for a moment.  Thor was always intrigued at how still she could be when doing this.  Then she smiled softly. The light of her trust lit up her face and Thor felt himself honored to have witnessed such an occasion.  She gracefully turned and fell on her back in front of Thor.

Thor reached out and cradled her automatically.  She smiled up at him from the relaxed recline she had in his arms.  She snuggled back towards him.

“You’re right, this does feel good.”

* * *

Later that week, Thor blinked as he looked again.  The decorations did not change and Thor held up the plastic vegetable in confusion.  Why make a plastic vegetable. Furthermore, why make it without its insides?

“You fill it with candy” was Clint’s answer when he posed the question aloud.  Thor blinked, even more confused by the strange tradition.

“Would not the real vegetable be better sustenance?”

Clint laughed at that.  Even Bruce chuckled at the table.  It was one of the few morns where the entire team broke fast together.

“Maybe, but candy tasted better!”  Tony’s cheerful quip from the coffee maker told Thor he’d finished his third mug at least.  Thor had learned to judge Tony’s mood by the number of mugs of coffee the engineer had imbibed and vice versa.  

“I see.  Another Midgardian tradition, to fill vegetables with candy?”

Bruce smiled and patted his wrist.  “Only on Halloween.”

“Halloween?”  Thor always loved a new word or tradition.  Especially, when someone would explain it to him prior to experiencing it for himself.  This allowed him to fully appreciate the activity.

“All hallows eve, it originally was a celebration of the dead.”  Bruce explained.

Clint seemed more exuberant though.  “Yeah, but these days its about dressing up and acting silly and getting candy!”

“And costumes!”  Steven looked excited.  “I remember a lot of us walked around with masks on for the day and talked about magic.”

Thor smiled.  “Ah, we have a similar holiday around this time, Vetrnaetr.  It is a celebration of the last harvest where we seek approval of our ancestors and divine the future.”  Thor thought back. “Mother and Loki always enjoyed it. Since they were magic users, it was a feast where many asked for their blessings.”

Thor looked around and smiled widely at his silent comrades.  “And the wine flowed freely for three days!”

Chuckles lightened the mood and Thor delved into a long discussion with Bruce, and Clinton, on the traditions of Halloween, that was happening in a few weeks.  Mayhap, Jane and Darcy could visit.

He should have known his team would notice his despondency.  He had but a moment alone before Steven sat next to him on the couch in the common room.  “Thor?”

Thor gave him a smile that hopefully was wider than it felt.

“I am reminiscing, my friend.”  Steven remained so Thor continued.  “When children, my brother and I would enjoy all the holidays, but since Vetrnaetr was of magic, Loki enjoyed it more than I.  We played many pranks during the second day of feasting. The first day was for the ancestors and the last day was for divination, but the middle day was for laughter and harmless pranks were widely accepted and cheered.  It was the only time I really remember letting Loki teach me magic.” 

Thor blushed, “My affinity for spells has always been dismal, as is with my father.  I have wondered in recent revelations whether this was part of the attitude towards Loki and his magic.”

Thor felt movement against the back of the couch and he saw Clint sit on the back with his legs bracketing the godling.  “But you guys had some good pranks on Vet-near, right?”

“Vetrnaetr.”  Thor withheld a chuckle at the mispronunciation.  “Aye, my brother’s talent in harmless fun was endless.”

“Rhodey and I pulled a few good ones in our day too.”  Tony plopped himself on the other side of Thor, grinning.  Bruce reclined on the opposite chair. Thor assumed they had finished the costume project they had mentioned.

“Come on, Big and Blonde!”  Thor looked at Clinton in question.  Natasha sank at his feet gracefully and smiled.

“Yes, tell us about your favorite prank.”

For many moments Thor regaled his new comrades with tales of his brother.  He realized that as he did so, he didn’t miss his brother quite so much. Here he was surrounded by family.

* * *

Midgardian had many cultural oddities that Thor struggled to understand.  One of the biggest was their many varied methods of communication. It was simpler on Asgard.  Strong tales and loud voices spoke words of camaraderie, but mostly it was the joyful back-slapping and constant embraces that Thor remembered.  Because touch carried its own message.

And here the message was acceptance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor wants to call Tony Anthony and He's still adjusting in his head.
> 
> A flock is the species Lockheed is, so basically a dragon
> 
> Last one is for Natasha and it's being stubborn. Just like the lady herself.


	6. Natasha Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Natasha knew her teammates and the one time they all knew her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to RikasGreyWolf, who requested a sleep over for the Avengers. Enjoy!!

Seeing differs from observing.  Observing differs from knowing. To someone who sees but not observes or observes but doesn’t know, the other represents potent magic.

Natasha was raised to observe.  Her comrades were trained to observe.  But it was her who learned to know.

* * *

Knowing Clint had been the first.  Natasha had spent much of her time prior to the Hawkeye assignment stretching her ability to observe.  To draw conclusions that helped her to complete her job. Then she was assigned to kill Hawkeye.

He’d defected.  He’d been an assassin for hire that her handlers had used.  While he was under the thumb of that circus act, everything was fine.  The Ringmaster understood how the world worked. He understood where he stood on the steps.  But then the archer assassin joined that defense group formed during the Nazi War.

That was unacceptable.

Natasha had prided herself being the best graduate of her program.  So they had sent her. She was told that there was no time limit, but to get it done.  

She’d spent weeks following him.  Watching as he completed missions and generally made a nuisance of himself to her employers.  She watched him walk to his apartment. She watched him and his lover. She watched him and his other lover.  She observed.

Then she knew.

He’d gotten out.  He’d found something better than the life of an assassin that she led.  He’d betrayed all she’d sacrificed for this life. She would remove this stain.

When she finally had him in her sights, everything lined up, he did the one thing she hadn’t planned for.  He turned and put three arrows through her.

Well, she had planned for that reaction.  What she hadn’t planned for was the location of his shots.  He was a master marksman. Yet his arrows pinned her. One through the meat of her shoulder, on through the calf and one under her armpit, just scratching her suit.  

“I was wondering when you’d close ground, Black Widow.”  Hawkeye walked slowly towards her. She was pinned, a spider on cardboard for a collector.  Over to one side, she saw his lover and handler step out of the shadows.

“We need to bring her in.”

But Hawkeye shook his head.  He argued with his handler. She didn’t understand.  All her observation and she couldn’t understand his angle.

Until she did.

She had understood.  She had observed.

She had known.

Clint Barton had created a family.  A family pieces together from who he was and who they were, until they were all who they became.

Natasha didn’t need to observe her partner anymore, because she knew him.  

She knew the feel of his eyes.  She knew the scent of his tone. She knew the sight of his breath.  She knew the sound of his skin. She knew the taste of his words.

She knew him.

* * *

Knowing Tony had been a journey.  Working with Phil and Clint had taught her to take observing beyond prediction and to knowing.  Like her other skills, she polished this one.

Tony had polished his better.

It was rare that she got to interact with her targets as much as she had with Tony prior to giving her report.  Rarer still, to be on a team with targets.

Tony Stark.

In many ways, she didn’t think anyone really knew the genius.  All the layers he hid, suppressed just to fit into a box built by society.  A box he flowed out of too often for most.

She read reports and interviews, searched through videos and notes.  But observation by her own senses remained most accurate. Even with this, she had been unprepared for his reactions to his impending death.  She had predicted the party, even helped it along to get him to release some tension. The donut shop was _not_ part of that expectation.  But Fury had guessed.

She resolved to do better.

Then he escaped Phil’s sight.  Or rather, Phil let him go. Natasha had asked him, but he’d shrugged and said, “Stark knew what he needed.  That was enough.”

Again someone had predicted the erratic genius better than she did.  So she sat back and watched. She joined the team and watched.

Tony didn’t fit in a box and when placed in one he sometimes spilled out.  He created a box for himself. It had more than 100 sides and the public only saw the sides Tony needed them to see.  Each side had its own purpose and they all had the overarching purpose of Tony.

Her teammate couldn’t be defined, because he created his own definition then forced the world to do its best to keep up.

So Natasha knew.  She knew to stop trying to predict and simply trust.  She knew to stop trying to define and simply allow. She knew to stop trying to control and simply enjoy.  She knew to stop trying to help and simply cooperated. She knew to stop trying to outsmart, and to simply care about him.

She knew him.

* * *

There were few fears that overpowered Natasha’s training.  Flashbacks and trauma aside, her actual fears were under serious control.

Until Bruce.

SHIELD sent her to Kolkata to recruit Bruce because she was a woman, so she had the greatest chance of seeming non-threatening.  History displayed a distinct lack of direct-human-injury by the Hulk and many corroborating reports indicated a fondness for women.  

The issue wasn’t Hulk trying to cause damage.  The issue was collateral damage. Natasha was also chosen because her training gave her the best chance to escape a rampage.  

That didn’t make it any less terrifying.  

An angry opponent, Natasha could manipulate, control.  General flying debris and flailing fist, less so.

Her first impression of Bruce had been defensive, angry and bitter.  

Then she’d shown him the tesseract.

It didn’t distract him from her mission, but for a moment, she saw curiosity in his eyes.

It was gone again.  A flash in a pan. Replaced by his understanding of the world that surpassed her expectation for a science geek who turned into a giant green rage monster.

Natasha wasn’t surprised to see him shrink in on himself as they made their way to SHIELD.  Even int he lab, he didn’t return to that curiosity she’d seen dancing across his eyes.

Until Tony Stark posed the idea that Selvig could solve the quantum tunneling effect.

Natasha watched in amusement as Stark managed to bring that flash out again and again.

Bruce wasn’t a meek scientist who’d made a mistake.  He was a strong individual with solid opinions and keen wit.

Then the explosion had brought out Hulk.  Natasha met his eyes as Bruce lost himself to Hulk.  Lost himself, and found himself.

Natasha understood then.

Hulk had that focus, she’d seen in the lab, once Stark had calmed him down and drawn him out.  

Hulk had that irritation she’d heard when Bruce accused them of using him to make weapons of mass destruction.

Hulk had the pain that all the loneliness and isolation had created.  

Hulk had the logic of the cool educated mind.

Hulk had the anger of a man whose life had been fucked with continuously.

Bruce and Hulk were not different people, they were different lives.

She saw Tony teach Hulk to be gentle.  She saw Clint teach Hulk to fetch and carry.  She saw Thor teach Hulk to spar, let loose without being careless.  She saw Steve teach Hulk that he could be accepted. The childhood Bruce had never had, Hulk was now living.  And in doing so, Bruce was gaining a family.

It took a while, but Natasha saw Bruce and Hulk.  She observed them.

She knew him.

* * *

She had known she had some of the super soldier serum in her.  She had trained with Winter Soldier, who definitely had some. Meeting the original super soldier was interesting.  She’d placed even money on either completely repressing himself into a rigid military stereotype, or depressed, desperately looking for a distraction from 70 years missing in his life.

Steve had landed somewhere in between.

Being able to predict the man hadn’t taken much observation.  Steve was rather predictable if you ignored the propaganda and focused on the man’s actual actions.

Ignored the law to fight for what he believed in.  Ignored a direct order to save his brother. Ignored his death to save his country.

She didn’t know why everyone expected him to toe some line.  Steve Rogers had never followed whatever rules in front of him.  He cared though. That usually made up the difference.

What she hadn’t understood until the team moved in together was how smart the man actually was.  He was willing to put in the work, and he didn’t need excessive repetition to understand a lesson.  His grasp of tactics was thorough and Natasha found herself following his orders without analyzing them first.

She didn't need to analyze.  Steve believed in a greater sense of right and wrong.  He believed in people.  this was his strength.  She saw time and again that people who wouldn't fall in line for the most powerful or manipulative campaign would stand and salute the displaced soldier.  It wasn't just his belief though.  

She saw him look at a child and smile sadly.  She saw him look at an injury and worry. She saw him remember what it was like to be sick or small or insignificant or restricted or betrayed.  She saw him do everything because he understood how the other person felt. She saw him try.

This was what people saw on a subconscious level.  Genuine was a powerful motivator, apparently.  But Steve didn't think that way.  She knew he wouldn't abuse that.  She knew he would learn and grow because people needed him to do so.  She knew he would always try.

She knew him.

* * *

Thor was the last member of the team she met.  Well, "met" is a strange word for when someone literally lands on your plane mid-flight.  Still, with everything, it was becoming a common occurrence, especially with Iron Man.

Phil and Clint’s report on Thor had been thick with embarrassment (Phil) and humor (Clint).  The man wore his heritage like a cloak and yet displayed a young vulnerability indicative of inexperience.

It did not shock Natasha that he could be exceedingly gentle, both physically and emotionally.  To her knowledge he’d never actually harmed any of his more fragile teammates.  Bruce’s work with him on eggs was entertaining.

What she hadn’t anticipated was that someone so disconnected from their culture could read body language so well.  She had scolded herself for that. He was a warrior so it stood to reason he could read at least the basics in body language.

Thor’s acceptance was the biggest surprise to her.  His view of his people's superiority was well established, and they were impressive.  But he accepted their culture easily and his groups oddities even easier.

He took their opinions, their quirks at face value, simply adjusting his definition of them as he encountered these new bits.  That acceptance was life blood for them all.

He accepted Bruce in all forms, joyfully interacting in any manner the man or beast desired.  He accepted Steve as a man straddling two cultures himself, eager to explore this world with a companion.  He accepted Clint and his free love and free humor, happy with his hugs and pranks. He accepted Tony in all his glory as a billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist; eyes alighting with curiosity as Tony explained anything and everything.  He accepted Natasha and all the twist and turns she had in her, content to let her be as she was.

After a millennia of life, Natasha could never observe all of it, but she didn’t need to.

She _knew_ him.

* * *

Even with Halloween a week away, the others noticed when Natasha withdrew slightly.  She had a costume set up, but the last week before Halloween, she retreated. Clint knew, of course, but he had never had any success in coaxing her out of this mood.  It happened every year at the end of October.

In Russia, the last two days of October were days of remembrance, first of politically repressed victims and then of prison workers.  The Red Room had rejected both concepts and during the debates on these holidays in the late 80’s, they’d retaliated against their own by further traumatizing Natasha and her comrades, calling it reinforcement of their training.  

After Natasha’s freedom solidified, she’d chosen these two holidays to mourn her own past.  She personally didn’t believe in focusing on the past in such a useless, pitiful manner, but her required SHIELD therapist had suggested it.  Since the first year she hadn’t seen him, she’d skipped and Clint had complained she had decided to keep it.  So now she spends a few days every year feeling sorry for herself.

Clint had taken to spending this time with her and they would curl up and watch a movie.  With everything happening with the Avengers, she wasn’t certain what the plan was. Turned out her partner planned ahead.

When she finally emerged to the kitchen for some comfort food of Caramel gelato covered in marshmallows, she found the entire group gathered in the kitchen.  She almost turned right around, but she didn’t have any food upstairs. Instead, she sighed and tried to slip in the kitchen quietly. Of course, Tony never cooperated.

“Spider!  You’re just in time!”  Natasha glared at him as he slung an arm around her shoulders and placed a bowl in her hands.  She looked at the bowl of chips and then back up at him, but he was already focused on directing Steve and Bruce to the couch.  Briefly, Natasha wondered where Clint was and if he’d stop this so she could go back to her room and watch movies by herself.

Tony ignored her mood, typically, and piled a large bag of what looked like peanut butter cups on the chips.  Then he balanced a bowl of nacho cheese on that and Natasha forgot to be irritated as she tried to maintain the haphazard tower of food.  Tony gave her a gentle push towards the couch and retreated into the fridge. Sighing, she told herself again that she could not kill her teammates as she strode over to the couch and let Steve unburden her arms.

The normal couch had been reoriented and now it was facing away from the TV, which made little sense to her.  However, this was overshadowed by the two floor lamps on either side of the room and the blanket Thor and Clint were currently stringing between them.

Bruce was shoving pillows and what looked like half the cushions in the tower on the floor into some sort of pile that surrounded the table Steve was piling high with food.  They had located another couch from somewhere and it had been placed also facing away from the TV at an angle to the normal couch.

Clint gave her a bright grin.  “I was wondering if I’d have to come and drag up you up here.”  

“And what _is_ going on?”  Clint didn’t falter under her intense gaze, but Steve did.  He started rubbing the back of his head, but Tony came up behind her and answered first.

“Slumber Party!!!”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  Tony grinned unrepentantly.

“Brucie and Clint have never had one, all of mine ended in orgy and hangovers,”  Steve frowned at him for that, “And Clint thinks they’re cool!” Tony dropped his load of food, which definitely included her favorite chocolate covered cherries.

“Me ‘n Bucky used to do this all the time.  Especially in the winter, ‘cause it was cold.”  Steve was not looking at her, but she guessed his cheeks were red.

“Aye, “  Thor boomed as he put the finishing touch on the blanket fort they’d built.  “My brother and I would do the same, except instead of a movie, our entertainment was Loki’s magic.”

Bruce gave her a gentle smile and held out his hand.  “My cousin had a few with her friends when I was young.  They always cheered her up.”

Then Natasha realized, this was also for her.  This was their idea of cheering her up. She frowned.  “Then we need more salsa.”

The grin on her teammates' faces made that worth it.  She wasn’t sure it this would suffice in remembrance, but it did sound fun.  Tony strode back to the kitchen explaining that Mexican was being delivered just as JARVIS chimed in with the delivery notice.  

The rush to fill their bowls with tacos and enchiladas took over as they giggled and joked.  Steve got candy thrown at him when he thought the salsa was too spicy and Bruce had quietly shared his chocolate empanada with her.  After the meal had slowed, Tony clapped his hands for JARVIS to started the movie before dashing to the kitchen one last time.

As Hocus Pocus started, he returned with a large bowl that he set in front of Natasha.

A bowl full of Caramel Gelato and marshmallows.

Natasha looked at him as he poked Bruce to move over.  She saw Steve leaned against Thor and the two snuggle close, probably reliving their childhood experiences.  She met Clint’s questioning gaze.

Tomorrow she may still not feel great.  Tomorrow she may still need some time to mourn, but right now, she found something far more healing than the advice of that therapist.  Past acceptance. Past understanding.

She found a team that knew her.

* * *

Seeing differs from observing.  Observing differs from knowing. To someone who sees but not observes or observes but doesn’t know, the other represents potent magic.

Natasha was raised to observe.  Her comrades were trained to observe.  But it was her who learned to know. Because knowing is the greatest magic of all.

“Our deepest need is to be seen” -Marianne  Williamson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end quote I interpret as being seen not in the visual sense but in the metaphorical sense. It isn't our looks that need to be seen, but ourselves.
> 
> Also, Nat's view of Steve is not in line with how I read Steve from Civil War. FYI, I hate Steve from Civil War.
> 
> I finished it!!!!


End file.
